Mated To The Werewolf King (Completed, Kings Series, Book 1)

Denial

Once we entered the room, he abruptly let go of me, and I almost stumbled backward on the marble floor having being deprived of the only momentum that kept my legs going. Directly across the hall stood a throne placed in the center of a raised dais supported by two forward and backward columns, each of which was sculpted with figures of vicious werewolves.

"Yes, I'm waiting. I don't have all day," he said folding his hands at his arms with a bored expression.

"Oh, please don't let me keep you away from your precious bitch," I muttered under my breath. I knew he heard me as werewolves had an exceptional hearing ability.

"Excuse me?" he said ferociously.

"You can just deliver me to my comfortable sleeping grounds in the dungeon and then you can go back to your Zena," I said defiantly. I've had enough of his boorish manners.

His arms suddenly lashed faster than a whip seizing me by the arms, which had already started bruising from his impenetrable grip. I panicked trying to break his hold as I expected the second choking session to start. Xavier had warned me; I had failed to heed it. Then he jerked me harshly towards him. I had only a few seconds to register the feel of his body against me before his mouth was on mine, kissing me hard and sending jolts of pleasure down my spine. I didn't think; I just acted as instinct took over and I wrapped my hands around him all the while struggling to bring him closer to me. His hands pushed up my shirt, his hands gliding over my bare back, his fingertips lightly grazing my skin. I was burning up as his kiss became more frantic, deeper. His tongue was exploring my mouth in hunger, tasting my essence as it twined with my tongue. The deep rumble I felt in his chest made me shudder. I couldn't get enough of him.

And that is how it ended. One moment, I was in the throes of passion, and the next I was flying in the air, my back colliding with the harsh stone wall.

"What is your problem?" I screamed as I rubbed my bruised back. He was nuts. There was no other explanation.

"You've done it again. You make me want you," he said, running his hand absentmindedly through his hair out of exasperation. "Why do I feel you are my mate? What are you doing to me? "he bellowed, losing his temper again.

So he thought I was his mate? Interesting.

"How do you know I am not your mate?" I asked snapping in frustration. I did not want to be his mate any more than he wanted me to be his, but his cocky attitude was getting to me.

"Because you are not even a werewolf," he grunted, his black irises shimmering dangerously.

"You are a liar," I screamed not caring that I was talking to the most lethal creature in the world. He roared in laughter, the sound of which irritated the hell out of me.

Aargh! How I wanted to rip his heart out even as I wanted to glue my body to his and stay there forever, basking in his scent. I was so mad that I wanted to show him how wrong he was. Soon, he would be sorry; he would kneel and beg for my forgiveness. The mental image of him on his knees made my lips twitch with amusement. I shifted to my wolf, and stood in all my glory, I prowled and preened to show off my beautiful fur. He laughed even harder. I simply wanted to kill him. Yes, my wolf was small, but it existed. Why in the hell wasn't he on his knees then?

Conveniently, I shifted back, fully clothed. Sam had always said the ability to shift like this was my unique talent. It didn't make up for my lack of speed and healing abilities as a wolf, but oh well it was still something, and it had its practical uses just like now.

"You've seen my wolf. You can't deny I'm a werewolf."

"You don't have a wolf; all you have is an illusion. You are a witch," he said smirking.